


The Called

by Serie11



Category: Realm of the Elderlings - Robin Hobb
Genre: Gen, New Skilled Ones, Post The Tawny Man Trilogy, The Skill, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 20:39:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18106055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serie11/pseuds/Serie11
Summary: Nettle nodded to Dutiful respectfully, and then turned to gesture to me. “Tom, this is the man known as Catfish,” she says. “Catfish, this is Skillmaster Tom.”“Nettle tells me that you claim to have heard the Call,” I said.Catfish nodded. “Yessir. Just like was described in the posted notices around town. People in my head, saying things other people couldn’t hear! Telling me to come to Buckkeep. It was the strangest thing.”





	The Called

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Isis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isis/gifts).



_And when the new Skill members should present themselves, douse them with kyrr leaf, to aid their uroa and uncover yorro within them. This will also help to bring in their foreign chi into the group, as it is well known that even Skill-users who are not part of the same coterie but still spend time around each other form a bond that is hostile to anothers chi. In order to [spilled ink] which is the best way to ensure that [a hole in the parchment has removed the rest of the paragraph]_

_These new Skill users will be unstable, as their uroa is very likely to have been unsettled by the first contact of another Skilled one. This is a delicate time in their life and the transition must be taken seriously. No good Skillmaster will leave a student alone in the first tendays of their arrival, to ensure that the newly discovered pupil is both kept safe from any wayward forces who would like to acquire them, and to ensure that the new student does not lose themselves in the temptation of the Skill-stream. If any show signs of being drawn in this early in their tutelage, turn them away. It is better to be regretful over the loss of a potential student than it is to mourn that same student. It is the duty of every Skillmaster to do so, no matter how their liege might try to persuade them otherwise._

_[Another hole has removed the signature]_

 

I squinted at the text in front of me, but it made as little sense rereading it for the fourth time as it did the first. The translation notes sitting beside me were mournful with lack of words, but I had no comparison for what the scroll was saying. Uroa, yorro, chi… Whatever they meant, we did not know. Perhaps we would discover them again in time, and assign them new names, only to go over old scrolls and throw our hands up and exclaim over them. Until then, I was stuck here, scratching my head and looking for all the references to the strange words I could find within the large library so I could try and build up a bigger picture of what they meant.

The person sitting opposite me paused in his writing. “Found something?”

Dutiful lifted his head as he peered at my notes, a note of hope in his voice. I shook my head and he sighed, leaning backwards to stretch.

“I feel like I’ve read all of these notes thrice over and yet their meaning is still lost to me,” I admitted. Dutiful pursed his mouth.

“I know what you mean. Even the scrolls that are marked for translation blur into each other sometimes.” He interlocks his fingers and cracks them before picking up his quill again. “That’s the one about the new students, isn’t it?”

Where did he get the time to read these? As far as I could tell, he was spending his mornings with harvest reports and his evenings with Kettricken and Chade, going over taxes and laws. And yet he still found the time to sit here and frown over scrolls alongside me. I lowered my head as if looking at the scroll to hide my smile. His father’s son, still.

Thick stands up suddenly from where he has his own pile of papers, mostly scraps that Dutiful had given to him so he could feel like part of the work as well. “Nettle wants to talk,” he announced importantly.

A second later, I felt my daughter’s brush against my mind as she reached past me towards Dutiful. Neither of them excluded me from the conversation, so I listened to them.

_Another man has approached the castle saying that he has come for the Call,_ Nettle said briskly.

_Another? It’s been almost two moons since we Called._ Dutiful exchanged a glance with me. I shrugged one shoulder – there were places in the Duchies which would take two moons to travel to Buckkeep from. Not many, but it was possible.

_I’m going to talk to him. I’ll bring him to the Tower if there’s any truth to his statements._

_We are here now,_ Dutiful told her, and cut off the connection. I resisted the urge to flow out into the Skill-stream and find Nettle and ride with her while she met the new man, but knew she would not appreciate my intrusions.

“Maybe that scroll of yours will be relevant again today,” Dutiful mused.

“How many does this make?” I asked.

“Over a score,” Dutiful answered. “How have the others been coming along?”

Dutiful had asked me to keep an eye on the new Skilled ones while they settled into their new apartments in Buckkeep. “Most of them still seem unsure. There are two who I think have taken to castle life maybe too well, but they have not abused their new arrangements yet.”

Dutiful put his head in his hand thoughtfully. It seemed like a very unprincely thing to do, but his casualness warmed my heart with affection. Thick shot a look at me with narrowed eyes, and I put my hands up in surrender. I wasn’t trying to take his place at Dutiful’s side – that was his. Thick sighed went back to staring out the window, watching two hawks who were circling just in sight but out of the range of my Wit.  

“I still feel like we do not know what we are doing with them,” Dutiful admitted. “But we hardly knew either, when you were teaching me. Are you sure one-on-one lessons should be what we start with?”

“That is what I have practise with,” I reminded him. “Later, when we know more about them and their Skill talents, we can maybe form larger groups.”

“Nettle still wants to try as a group first, doesn’t she?”

“Yes.” I kept my expression clear and my thoughts still so Dutiful didn’t see the glimpse of the Queen’s Garden that flashed across my vision. “Nettle has not taught anyone yet. Even as strong headed as she is, I think she will bow to this.”

Dutiful nodded and then paused.

_We’re at the bottom of the stairs, coming up._

I snorted. Nettle must have rushed the man over to this side of the castle. “Are you staying?” I asked Dutiful. The secret passage behind the fireplace was always there, but Dutiful rarely took it.

“I was there for the others when I could be,” Dutiful mused. “ _I’ll stay for this one, but don’t tell him who I am if he doesn’t already know._ ” He Skills the last to Nettle as well.

“Very well,” I said, just as the door opened and Nettle marched through. A man followed her, in his second decade with rough looking clothes and a pensive expression.

Nettle nodded to Dutiful respectfully, and then turned to gesture to me. “Tom, this is the man known as Catfish,” she says. “Catfish, this is Skillmaster Tom.”

Catfish looked me over doubtfully, and then looked at Dutiful. Since Dutiful was wearing one of the spare robes that I kept in the chest by the fireplace, he didn’t look particularly like the King-in-Waiting unless he tried to, and Catfish obviously didn’t recognise him.

“Nettle tells me that you claim to have heard the Call,” I said, pulling his attention away from Dutiful and towards me again.

Catfish nodded. “Yessir. Just like was described in the posted notices around town. People in my head, saying things other people couldn’t hear! Telling me to come to Buckkeep. It was the strangest thing.”

“Where do you hail from?” I asked.

“A small town in Farrow, sir,” Catfish said. “I mostly walked here, which is why it took me so long.”

I regarded him for another moment, then steeled myself and lowered my walls enough to reach out. Instinct urged me to clench up defensively around an unknown, but Nettle and Dutiful and Thick were in the same room as us. Nettle looked at me in a way that showed that she knew I was struggling, and that was enough for me to reach out and skim the top of Catfish’s mind.

I didn’t have the innate skill for doing this like Nettle, but after the third woman to arrive had lashed out at Nettle instinctively Dutiful had ordered that I make the first contact with all who were claiming to have heard the Call. Dutiful had been reluctant to do so, and Nettle had been outraged that I suggest such a thing, but I had reminded them that neither of them had the defences and experience that I did in parrying another Skill user. Since Nettle had been bedridden at the time due to the unintended attack, it had not taken much more to convince Dutiful.

Catfish’s thoughts were _colourful_ , which is not something that I had ever wanted to attribute to another Skill user before. Feelings and textures, yes. But Catfish was a rainbow of emotion. He flinched and his eyes widened as he looked at me.

“You’re doing it!” he said, a note of awe coming into his voice. “Just like before, with all those voices…”

_Can you hear me?_ I asked, sending the thought down an open trail. Nettle was open beside Catfish and clearly listening to us.

“Y…yes,” Catfish said. And like the other Skilled ones I had first came into contact with before, there was movement of his Skill – like a baby who had just figured out they had enough grip to pull themselves into a standing position. Not take a step yet, no – but just realising that they could stand was enough to awe them into stillness.

I withdrew contact. Thick leaned over to stare at Catfish, squinting his little eyes at him, but Catfish didn’t even see him. I looked between the two of them and once again wondered why some people had the Skill, and why others did not, and why even in Skilled ones there were such enormous gaps of talent. The parchment on the table seemed to sit and mull over its secrets, amused. Perhaps someday I would be able to read it and understand what it was talking about. And maybe the new Skilled one standing in the room would be able to help.

“Hello, Catfish,” I said, nodding my head. “It is a pleasure to meet you, and to welcome you among the Skilled ones who live at Buckkeep.”


End file.
